


press a kiss, hide your fist

by R_Gunns



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Object Insertion, Pervertibles, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-03-31 18:21:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3988072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_Gunns/pseuds/R_Gunns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"You like that Matty?" he asks, voice pitched low, "You want me to tell you what a good boy you are?" </i> </p><p>A series of pwp minifills for Daredevilkink prompts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pour yourself on me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the [prompt](http://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org/1296.html?thread=1733392#cmt1733392): "That thing when someone says it and Matt just sort of melts a little bit and Foggy notices and he keeps testing it and trying it out and Matt starts to figure it out but he can't help his reaction and then Foggy's super turned on and Matt's super turned on and uh me, by this point. I will also be super turned on."

The first time it happens Foggy doesn't take too much notice. They're talking to a client, an older guy; his hair is black streaked through with grey, his skin dark and weather-worn, and he's built enough that he'd probably give even Matt a run for his money. They're finishing up, Matt and the guy exchanging niceties while Foggy heads back to his desk when he says in a voice as smooth as gasoline,  
  
"You're a good boy Matthew." Foggy turns to them to see the guy lay a heavy hand on Matt's shoulder and squeeze, before slipping out the door. Foggy watches Matt for a second, a flush rising up his cheeks and his mouth hanging open in something like shock, but then he shakes himself and turns to face Foggy's approximate position.  
  
"Lunch?" he asks, and Foggy nods. He doesn't think anything of it.  
  
  
The second time there's maybe an inkling. It's just the two of them, after a case, and Foggy says something like _you did a great job in there Matty_ , and suddenly Matt's got a death grip on his arm and he's stumbling a little. He corrects himself pretty quickly, but Foggy still sees and it catches something in his brain, though he's not quite sure what.  
  
  
By the third time, they've actually been together a few months. Foggy is lying sated on Matt's silk sheets, eyes casually following Matt's ass as he goes to the bathroom to grab a wash cloth for them both to clean up with. When he comes back, holding it out for Foggy, he takes it with a grin and says _good boy_ without even thinking. So he means it as a _joke_ , but looking up at him, Foggy is hit with the realization that for Matt it's anything but. He's blushing, cock twitching despite having come only five minutes earlier, and Foggy remembers the previous times this had happened and he suddenly understands.  
  
"You like that Matty?" he asks, voice pitched low, "You want me to tell you what a good boy you are?" Matt's breath hitches in answer, and he shudders visibly when Foggy's fingers brush his skin, tugging him back on the bed. He arranges them so that Matt is half on top of him, head resting on his chest, soft and warm in his arms.  
  
"I am well on my way to falling asleep now buddy, but d'you maybe wanna...try that out or something tomorrow?" Matt twitches in his arms, stays silent just long enough that Foggy thinks he isn't going to answer, then nods quickly against his chest.  
  
"Yeah," he says quietly, voice slightly muffled, "I'd like that."

 

\--

  
  
So. Tommorow.  
  
Foggy's got Matt on his back underneath him, is pressed up and against him, his hands gripping Matt's sweat-slick thighs and pressing them back against his chest while Foggy fucks into him slow, excruciatingly slow, the same way he'd fingered him open till he'd been a sweaty mess, begging for it, hands scrabbling for Foggy's ass to pull him closer. And the whole time he keeps up a mantra, started with,  
  
"You're doing so well," and had soon devolved into "Good, good, you're so good Matty, _such_ a good boy, _good boy_ , there we are, c'mon, that's great, you're so good," He keeps it up the entire time he fingers Matt open, and even when starts fucking him, ever so slow, but he trails off for a while when he leans down to kiss Matt, lick into his mouth and just breath against each other. He presses a kiss to the underside of Matt's jaw, and then his cheek, and he takes his hand from Matt's right thigh to cradle his head instead, thrusts into him, hard, and says against his skin,  
  
"You are so, _so_ good, Matty, so perfect, such a good boy for me--" he notices wetness on his lips after a moment, and shifts back a little, to see the source of it; that Matt is weeping, quietly, tears trickling from his eyes and down his temples. Foggy freezes, and moves to get off him, but Matt stops him with a hand on his back, and his eyes focus somewhere just off of Foggy's own.  
  
"No," Matt says, voice shaky, his nails digging hard and desperate against his skin, "Carry on. Please, _please_ , just--" and who is Foggy to deny Matt what he wants? He presses back into him, covers Matt's body in his own as thoroughly as he can manage.  
  
"Shh, okay, I've got you buddy," he says, "Good boy, that's it, I've got you."


	2. I want you on all fours, show me how you crawl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the [prompt](http://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org/1296.html?thread=1811728#cmt1811728): "...anyway i'm not like totally picky but some suggestions include biting matt's ass and leaving bruises, fondling/ass grabbing, and constant praise of his butt. please kinkmeme. i need this to survive. "
> 
> The title is from [Get on your knees](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IYZ909srs2w) by Nicki Minaj. Alternative title from the same song: "Got a bow on my panties because my ass is a present" (/is tempted to write Matt-in-panties fic) or a very simple: "Four times Matt's ass!!1!"

I.  
" _Oh my god_." Matt hears Foggy's heartbeat speed up before he hears him speak, notes the blood flow that simultaneously heads both north and _south_ of his heart. Matt elects to ignore that, instead half turns with his towel held in front of his crotch and raises his eyebrows in Foggy's general direction.  
  
"Dude, where have you been _hiding_ that ass?" Foggy says, and Matt blinks, flushes, almost drops his towel.  
  
"Um."  
  
"No, okay, I am definitely breaking the bro code right now, but you have been depriving humanity all this time by wearing ill-fitting jeans, and I'm not okay with that." And Matt isn't exactly sure what to say to that. Sure, a few girls have mentioned his ass before, but never more than a comment, and he's never really been with one long enough for them to mention it again, so he's never really thought about it. He knows he's nice to look at, has been told as much more than a few times, but this is. This is not something that he'd thought was a part of that. Apparently Foggy thinks otherwise.  
  
"Okay you know what, you are clearly not aware of the gift God has given you, but that's fine, I'm going to help you out here buddy. We are going to buy you some new pants, because He did not make that," and he feels the air move as Foggy points, "For you to go hiding it away. C'mon, get dressed, we are going out." Matt feels like he should be wincing at the casual blasphemy, but instead finds his lips twitching with bemusement.  
  
"We are?"  
  
"Yup, gimme five to shower." Matt hears him grab a towel and head out the room, mumbling something like _a goddamn perfect ass, who has an ass like that and doesn't tell anyone, Jesus,_ as he does. Matt stands by his bed for a moment, wills himself calm. Maybe reaches a tentative hand around to grab a handful of his own ass, curious. Huh.

  
  
II.  
The first time they had sex was desperate and clumsy and over embarrassingly fast. It had been a long time coming, and Matt had been sort of overwhelmed, the feel of Foggy's hand on his dick, his tongue and his teeth against Matt's neck, the silk sheets and their panting and Foggy's heart and-- and that had been that really. Foggy smiled against his skin so that Matt could feel it and said,  
  
"No worries buddy, we got all the time in the world," and then Matt had jerked him off till he came over his chest. The second time around is a few hours later, once pizza has been ordered and is on its way, and they're still laying together on Matt's bed. He leans over to grab a glass of water from his bedside table but startles and almost spills it when there’s suddenly a hand grabbing his right ass cheek. He quickly puts the glass back down.  
  
“Could give me some warning Foggy,” he says, then huffs a laugh when instead of answering Foggy manhandles him onto his stomach and moves to straddle his thighs.  
  
“I don’t think you realise how great your ass is dude. It’s like. Give Michelangelo a run for his money levels of good,” Foggy says, fingers kneading at the skin of his lower back, then lower, grabbing his ass with fingers tight enough to bruise.  
  
Matt groans, arches his back a little and mumbles, “ _Fuck me_.” Foggy’s fingers disappear for a second, and he tenses, worries if that was too forward, but then they come back wet, spit-slick, and he relaxes back into it. Foggy trails careful fingers between the crack of his ass, presses close but just a breadth away from where Matt wants it, _needs_ it, and Matt shifts around, tries to push back on Foggy’s thumb, only for him to pull away completely. He huffs against the pillow in frustration. “Foggy-”  
  
“What do you want Matt?” Foggy interrupts him, and his voice is teasing, “You’re going to have to be specific buddy, I’m not sure I know what to do.” He holds back a whine, clenches and unclenches his fists where he’s holding the pillow.  
  
“P-put your fingers in me,” he says, his face warming as he does, “Till I’m ngh-” Foggy’s fingers come back wetter -he must have gotten lube from somewhere- and they make a sound when he slides his fingers between his cheeks, then he spreads them, kneads at the skin some more with his fingertips and it feels _filthy_.  
  
“Till you’re what Matty?” Foggy asks, nonchalant, “Don’t stop now.” As he says it he presses a finger against the ring of muscle, finally, _finally_ where Matt needs it.  
  
“Till I’m, oh- _oh, mmm,_ open,” he manages as Foggy pushes his finger deeper, twists it, adds another.  
  
“Open for what?” Foggy asks, and his breath is coming quicker now, a little less restrained as he fucks Matt on his fingers, spreading and grabbing at his ass in turn with the other hand.  
  
“F-for, ngh, for your- your d-dick, Foggy, f-fuck me, _fuck me_ ,” he says into the pillow, fingers clenching tight, toes curling, and Foggy twists his fingers again, crooks them upward and suddenly Matt’s head is buzzing and his muscles go taut and he finds himself coming early for, _fuck_ , the second time that day. His muscles go lax, and he feels Foggy go still in surprise, pulling his fingers out and laughing softly, fond.  
  
“Woah, okay. Pretty sensitive there, huh?” he says, and Matt nods against the pillow. He resists the urge to go find a hole to hide in, but instead rides the leftover waves of sensation, and says to Foggy,  
  
“You can still, if you want, or just b-between my-” he trails off, finding it harder to articulate himself now the high is wearing off and he’s not got the benefit of arousal. Foggy presses a kiss against his lower back, hands coming back to grab his ass.  
  
“You sure?” he asks. Matt hums his approval.

 

iii.  
Years pass, they get their own practice, the daredevil thing happens, and Matt is proud to say he doesn’t embarrass himself again after that second time (“ _Oh,_ " Foggy says, you coming early was totally a sense thing wasn’t it!”). This is perhaps, entirely down to Foggy.  
  
“This is my very favourite thing,” Foggy says, pulling back for a second, and Matt would laugh if he weren’t too far gone already to do so. He’s face down, ass up, which is not all that unusual, and Foggy is sat between his legs with his hands holding Matt’s hips still to stop him from pressing back. Pressing back against Foggy’s face that is, because he’s currently got it buried in Matt’s ass, eating him out, and has been for something like a century. He’s given up on trying to be quiet, instead keeping up a continuous stream of short little desperate sounds, needing something, anything, just _more_. He had lost a bet, or something, he can’t remember now-- but ultimately the result is Foggy holding him in place so he can’t gain any friction to get off, licking into him slow, so slow it hurts. He can feel himself twitching around Foggy’s tongue; Foggy who is using his forearms to hold Matt’s ass cheeks apart, already reddened teeth digging in hard against delicate skin.  
  
Foggy takes a hand off his left hip for a second, reaches a it between his legs to press softly against the precome at the tip of his dick , tracing lightly down toward the base, just nudging his balls which are _tightening_ \-- the hand is gone, abruptly, and Foggy goes back to teasing at the rim of his asshole again, just shy of what he needs, licking a stripe from his perineum to his lower back, nipping at his skin.  
  
“My _very_ favourite thing,” Foggy says, his voice sweet like honey, “I could do this all night, even,” he adds, and Matt can’t help the whimper that catches in his throat.

  
  
iv.  
Over the years they’ve experimented a little, with restraints and vibrators among other things. But somehow, they managed to overlook this.  
  
This being Foggy passing Matt on his way to the kitchen, and smacking him on the ass because, well, it was there and Foggy felt it necessary. _This_ being, specifically, Matt going very very still, and very very red, and moaning so loud that it is a very _very_ good thing he does not have neighbours. He’d like to say it’s the shock more than anything, but his dick is saying otherwise. Foggy pauses in his quest for snacks, instead turning very slowly on his heel to face him. Matt feels the weight of his gaze on the back of his head. Or, well, maybe not his head.  
  
Foggy’s heartbeat picks up, somewhat matches the speed of Matt’s own.  
  
“Hey, uh, Matty. Do you wanna-”  
  
“ _Yes_ ,” Matt says, turning around to face Foggy. “Bedroom?” There’s a brief silence, only broken by their breathing, then Foggy says,  
  
“How about over the couch?” and Matt is suddenly finding it very hard to stay upright when what little blood left in his head has gone south. He tries not to whine. He probably fails.  
  
“Okay, take off your pants, get yourself comfortable.” Foggy says. Matt goes, almost trips over his own feet in his haste to do so. He kicks off his pants, pauses for a moment with his hands on his briefs, then mentally shrugs and pulls them off as well, settling with his stomach over the arm of the couch, his arms braced on the other side. Foggy’s steps toward him are slow, languid, like he’s taking in the sight of him. Matt knows from experience that he probably is. He’s so busy focusing on the anticipation, on the thought that there are windows _right there_ , he knows no one can see but there are _windows_ , that he doesn’t notice Foggy’s right behind him. Doesn’t notice till there’s the sound of air and a hand smacking his ass. He jolts forward and grunts, feels the sting reverberate around his body, like an electric shock, causing his muscles to spasm. His fingers dig into the material of the couch, and his toes the carpet. Foggy has apparently decided to go from zero to sixty in- not a lot of time.  
  
“I think I’m gonna go for ten Matty, but you tell me to stop any time you want, you remember your words?”  
  
It takes him a second, but he finds them, “Red to stop,” he says, and is rewarded with another smack on the other cheek. Foggy keeps his hand there for a second, trailing his fingers over his skin, already warming.  
  
“And the others?”  
  
“O-orange for pause.” Two sharp smacks in succession, in the same place, making his whole body shift forward against the couch. He’s panting a little, everything going a little fuzzy. All his focus is zeroed in on Foggy, the pain, the next smack, on _FoggyFoggyFoggy_. He’s hit again, on the other cheek, but harder, hard enough that he finds his eyes watering (though he’s taken more painful hits before, so many times. This is just. _More_.)  
  
“And?” Foggy’s voice cuts through the haze, soft and lovely.  
  
“Green,” he gets out, his voice rising on the end when Foggy hits him again, and again, and _again_ , and Matt finds himself whining, mewling with it. He barely notices he’s grinding against the arm of the couch, material he’d usually find uncomfortable being more than enough right now. He’s babbling, he thinks, something like _Foggy, ah- please, please, more Foggy, unh, Foggy,_ while he shifts against the couch, waiting, waiting--  
  
There’s the _thwip_ of air, and then suddenly a crack of a belt, his _belt_ against his ass, once, sharp and heavy and so good he wants _more_ , and Foggy says, “You gotta ask me for it Matty, ask me for the last one.” And he wants to be good, he wants it so bad, so he opens his mouth, tries to ask.  
  
“I wan’ ynh,” he says, and his mouth is slack, his head hanging between his arms, and he knows that’s not enough. He breathes, thinks he may be drooling a little, presses himself harder against the couch. “Want you to s-spank me,” he says, finally.  
  
Behind him Foggy shifts on his feet, tightens his grip on the belt till the leather creaks, says a soft, “ _Good boy_ ,” and brings it down, hard.


	3. baby bend over, let me see you do that yoga

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For an object insertion [prompt](http://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org/4501.html?thread=8416661#cmt8416661) on the kink meme

Foggy thinks it's probably the humiliation aspect that gets Matt going, or maybe the risk factor. If Foggy didn't put his metaphorical foot down, Matt would have a list longer than his arm (that would probably have 'Foggy's arm' on it at least a few times, ha) of strange and unsafe objects he's shoved up his ass. With Foggy's input he's managed to eliminate the unsafe aspect, if not the strange part.  
  
It starts off with a lack of a dildo. Foggy has one at his place, but he isn't desperate enough to go and get it. Matt on the other hand sort of is, not that he'll admit it, but Foggy doesn't have a miracle refractory period like Matt does, so there's no chance of Matt getting what he actually wants right now. So Foggy offers an alternative, somewhat jokingly commenting, "God, you're so desperate, you'd take anything wouldn't you? You want me to fuck you with those sticks you play with? How about, mmm- the wine bottle we were drinking from earlier? Would you let me fit that inside you, leave it there, keep you good and open for me?" And somehow that's doing it for Matt; has his hips stuttering, has him pushing back against Foggy's fingers and whining desperately, thighs and arms twitching as Matt loses the fight with gravity.   
  
Foggy carries on even as he manhandles Matt, pulls his arms behind his back and tugs at him till Foggy has easy access to his ass, "You want me to see how much I can fit inside Matt? I could stretch you out with my fist, then fill you up with whatever I wanted, make you hold it inside you all day," he pushes his tongue into Matt's asshole alongside his fingers, licks at his rim and scissors his fingers, stretching him out. Matt whines loudly in reply, shivering all over.  
  
"What about those lovely silk ties you wear," Foggy says after a moment, dribbling more lube on his fingers and working a fourth one inside, "What if I put those inside you? Would you let me see how many I could fit? Maybe half a dozen to keep you nice and full all day, leave just enough of them out so that I could take you to the bathroom, tug on them a little just so you could feel the pull before I push inside you, fuck you with them still inside."  
  
By this point Matt is barely making any noise, just wet panting into his pillow and breathy little sounds, _unh, unh, unh_ , every time Foggy presses his fingers in a little deeper, twisting and brushing against his prostate. He palms at Matt's ass with his other hand, smacks his skin till it's blushing red before snaking his hand around to take Matt's dick, stroke it rough and quick how he knows Matt likes it. He presses and twists his other fingers, pulling them out a little before pressing roughly back in.   
  
"You like that Matty? Every time you wore them you'd remember where they'd been, get you hard and squirming in public at the memory, knowing where they've been and how you've dirtied them," It doesn't take much after that for Matt to come, hands scrabbling behind his back to find Foggy's arm and cling, holding on desperately while Foggy gently strokes him through the aftershocks.

*

Matt doesn't mention it again, so Foggy puts in down to a heat-of-the-moment thing and shrugs it off, that is, until Matt comes to his flat one night with a bag full of ties and a carefully innocent look on his face. Things escalate from there.


End file.
